I Know
by Angela6257
Summary: A one-shot exploring what might have happened post 3.16. Told mostly through Deeks' point of view with Kensi playing a starring role.


**This started as a post 3x16 drabble and evolved into a fairly decent-sized one shot. What I imagine could have happened post-ep. (And for anyone who may be interested, I'm also almost done with the last chapter of Partners, so I haven't completely abandoned my obligations there. )**

**Disclaimer: I own NOTHING and no one, but I promise to return everyone when I'm done playing with them.**

**This picks up literally at the end of the episode itself.**

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><p>"Kensi!"<p>

Sam's cry cut through the air, and Deeks watched in horror as Kensi took off running as gunfire erupted all around her. Harris had already sunk to the ground, clutching his chest, and Kensi ducked as she ran, hands protecting her head. And then it happened. A single crack of gunfire. Kensi's legs stopped moving, her body still tumbling through the air. She hit the ground once, hard, then lay still.

Deeks was frozen for a moment, gun withdrawn, watching and waiting on Kensi to get up and move. Prove she was alive. "Kensi?" he called out, hopeful in spite of what he'd seen. But she lay where she'd fallen, facedown in the leaves, arms and legs splayed around her. Sam and Callen moved forward, taking shelter behind a fallen tree. Deeks arrived seconds later, Nell right behind him. The three agents all had weapons drawn.

"Let's go," said Deeks, whose eyes hadn't left Kensi's still form. "We need to get over there, find out how she is."

"Deeks," Callen's voice was firm. "Don't move. We don't know where the sniper is located, and we don't want two agents down."

Deeks spared a moment to look at him in disbelief before his eyes returned to his fallen partner. "Callen, that's Kensi out there. _Kensi_. You can't seriously expect me not to…"

"I can and I do." Callen sounded shaken but implacable.

"Screw that," muttered Deeks, muscles tensing as he prepared to move.

"Sam." Callen looked at his partner, then his glance slid sideways towards Deeks. Understanding exactly what he meant, Sam moved to flank the detective's left side as Callen slid over to his right. Deeks, who was clearly at the end of his rope, finally made a move towards Kensi. Just as Deeks lunged forward, he was tackled to the ground by what felt like a Sherman tank.

"Let me go," he ground out, trying to gain purchase by pulling himself forward. But it was impossible to move so much as an inch with 240 pounds of solid muscle laying across his back. He dug his fingers into the dirt in frustration.

"I can't," said Sam, his voice gruff but sympathetic. "There's a sniper out there, and we've got to establish who and where before we can move." He began trying to pull Deeks' arms back. "Deeks, you can't go out there."

"You can't stop me." He would have turned over if he could, would have fought Sam or Callen or Sam _and_ Callen _and_ a battalion of fully armed Marines in order to get to where Kensi still lay, unmoving. He still hadn't taken his eyes off her, couldn't look away.

"Eric?" he heard Callen say behind him. He spared a moment to cast a quick glance behind him, surprised to see Callen with a hand to one ear. No one was supposed to be wired for this op. Callen cocked his head to one side, apparently listening to Eric through an earwig, and Deeks turned back around to find Kensi once more. "Sam," he muttered, desperation coloring his words. "_Please_. Please let me go to her."

"We're clear?" Callen's voice interrupted whatever Sam might have said. "Thanks, Eric."

And just like that, Sam stood up, freeing Deeks to get to his own feet. He immediately took off towards Kensi. He forgot Callen and Sam, forgot Nell, forgot the op and the possibility of a sniper, forgot everything else except his fallen partner. His world narrowed, his focus centered on the still, slender figure in black laying crumpled on the ground.

He skidded to his knees next to her, reaching out with a trembling hand to touch her neck. He knew it was bad that she hadn't moved since being shot, knew that had it been anything but a serious injury she wouldn't be laying so silent and still. But he was surprised to find her pulse steady and strong. More than strong. Racing.

"Kensi?" he breathed, beginning gently to turn her over.

"Deeks," she hissed out quietly, lips barely moving and eyes closed. "Don't move me."

"It's okay, Kens." Callen squatted next to him. "We're clear. Eric's got eyes up, and he says we're okay to move."

"Thank you," said Harris heatedly. He got up and immediately began brushing himself off. "I'm pretty sure I landed in an ant bed. Something was definitely crawling up my…"

"We got it," said Kensi, eyes finally opening. She looked immediately at Deeks, who was frozen on his knees next to her. He hadn't moved, his hand still on her shoulder where he had begun turning her over. She slowly turned over herself then sat up, and his hand fell unheeded to his knee. "Deeks, I'm okay," she said softly. She laid a hand on his, and her touch broke whatever spell he'd been under. He was finally able to speak.

"You're…okay?" He looked around. Harris was looking at him, grinning crookedly. Sam and Callen were wandering around the perimeter of the park, and Nell was determinedly looking the other way. "You weren't shot?"

"No, I was." She grimaced, one hand going to a very large hole in her jacket. She held her side, hand over the hole, as she slowly got to her feet. Deeks followed, still trying to process everything. "I was most definitely shot." She untied the sash of her coat, then unbuttoned her coat. "Fortunately I was expecting it. Or actually, Hetty was." She pulled the sides of her coat apart, revealing one of the newer, low profile Kevlar vests. "She made sure I was prepared."

Deeks took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. His mind whirled, pulled in so many different directions he wasn't quite sure how he felt. Relief was uppermost, of course. She wasn't hurt, or at least not seriously. It hadn't escaped his attention she kept a hand clasped to her side, or that she'd winced as she pulled herself up. Relief that Harris was still alive, and Kensi hadn't lost the last clue to the truth about what had happened to her father. Confusion as well. When had this all been planned? What exactly had been planned? He shut it all down, focusing on Kensi once more.

"You sure you're okay?"

She smiled at him. "I'm fine." And he smiled back, their partnership…no, their _relationship_ back in balance with the familiarity of the exchange.

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><p>It took time to wrap things up. Reports had to be filed, agents had to be debriefed, and Kensi and Harris finally had their meeting. Not in the boatshed, and not in the park where they'd been made, but in a place of Kensi's choosing this time. Harris had conceded this to her after she pointedly brought up his lack of success in choosing a place, and Deeks had hidden a smile after she'd chosen the gym that had once housed the Blood &amp; Guts Warriors. The place was still home to former and active Marines, but now it was under the control of a former NCIS agent who'd gotten out of the business. Roger Claymore had quit before Deeks began working at the mission, but he'd met him a few times since, and he knew Kensi thought highly of the man. Roger had given up his office for the meet, and after a half hour alone Kensi and Harris had emerged, both looking tired but somehow settled. Harris had gone willingly into the custody of two NCIS agents assigned to take him to a safe house, and Kensi had insisted on going home. Alone.<p>

So now Deeks was outside her house for the second time in less than 24 hours. The sun had long since set, but she had her TV on and he could see her sitting at her small table in the flickering light of some reality show or another. He knocked and waited. She sat back a moment and then looked towards the door but didn't move. So he knocked again, then called out.

"Kens it's me, and I'm not leaving." He paused, but still no response. "I brought gifts. And, I repeat, I'm not leaving. In fact, I might go a little crazy out here. I could go really nuts and start singing. How many rounds of 'I'm sexy and I know it' do you think it'll take to get your neighbors calling the….."

She opened the door and glared at him.

"Authorities?"

"Deeks, we _are_ the authorities." She moved sideways, leaning against the door and blocking him access.

"Yeah, so that ought to work out well for us." He waited, but she didn't move. "Can I come in?"

"This isn't really a good time." She eyed him carefully, then stepped backwards with a sigh of defeat and waved him in. "But I can see that isn't going to make a difference. Come on in."

"Thanks." He put the six-pack down on her coffee table, set the plastic sack down next to it. "Glad I didn't have to utilize the newest trick in my repertoire designed to gain me entrance."

"What was it?" she asked curiously, taking one of the bottles and popping the top off. She eased herself down on the couch with one foot tucked underneath, then took a long pull.

"Ahh, that would be telling." He took one for himself, than sat down companionably close to her. "I might need to use it next time you don't want me here."

"Or you could take a hint," she said, lips quirked. "If I don't need you here, I don't need you here."

"I didn't say you didn't need me here, Fern." He leaned back, shaking his head slightly. "I said you didn't _want_ me here. You have the very bad tendency of not knowing the difference. But I'm still working on it."

He expected some kind of heated response or another insult perhaps, but she surprised him when she looked down at her beer, then reached out and patted his leg.

"I think…" she said slowly. "I think maybe that's something I could use some help with. So maybe it's a good thing you've got a trick or two up your sleeve."

"Well. This is a banner day," he said lightly, taking her hand in his. "Kensi Blye admits that maybe she needs me just a little bit."

She turned her hand over, grasping his tightly. "Don't tease. This has been a fairly difficult day, to put it mildly. And I know just how hard you were working for me, and I want to thank you because you…"

"Kens, don't." He reached out, laying one finger across her lips gently. "Please don't thank me. I don't need the thanks. Don't even want them, because you mean…you mean far more to me than just a partner. I can't imagine what life would be like without you. I don't even want to, really. " So she smiled at him, and he let his hand drop. They sat for a few moments in companionable silence, before Deeks looked over and realized what she'd been doing when he arrived.

"Still cleaning your dad's gun? Really?" He turned to look at her, eyes narrowed. "Kens, you can't just go around shooting your way out of trouble all the time."

"I wasn't planning on shooting it." She shrugged, then winced a little, her hand straying to her side again. "I feel like I have to clean it. That gun has always represented my dad to me. What he was, what he stood for. Now it's tainted." She frowned a little, her nose scrunching in an expression of disgust or repulsion that Deeks had never seen before. "That gun has always been a symbol of what my dad stood for, and now…now it's like I can't get it clean enough."

His own expression cleared, and he looked at her sympathetically. "You know, none of this changes who your dad was to _you_. What he meant to you, or how much he loved you."

"I know. And I'll get there. Eventually." She took a deep breath, and then winced again.

"Okay, that's it."

"What's 'it'?" She watched in confusion as he leaned forward, grabbing the sack and pulling it towards him. He pulled out a white box with a big pink bow on it and handed it to her. "Deeks, you didn't really have to get me anything. But since you did, guess I better open it." She pulled the bow off, then opened the box, smiling when she saw what was inside. "You shouldn't have."

"C'mon, Kens." He grinned, still rummaging around in the sack. "Donuts never go out of style. And I thought that might sweeten you up enough for this." He pulled out several rolls of Ace bandages.

"And what do you imagine you're going to do with those?" She leaned away now, one hand straying to her side.

"Taping up the broken rib and or ribs you've managed to acquire." She opened her mouth to protest, but he forestalled her. "And don't even try to tell me you're fine because this time I didn't ask."

Pouting a little, she subsided. After watching her for a moment, he decided it was safe to approach. He pushed her shoulder and she sat up a little. He began rolling her shirt up carefully from the back, and after scowling bad-naturedly at him, she helped roll up the front. Stopping just short of her bra so that her torso was exposed, he leaned forward so he could see the damage himself.

"Geez, Kens." He shook his head, wincing at the palm-sized bruise, already a solid black. Extending out a good six inches on each side was a slightly lighter circle of bruising. "That had to hurt."

"Stung a little." Her breath whistled out as he gently ran his fingers over the worse of it.

"It isn't completely fractured. I think taping ought to do it." He outlined the edges of it, still testing. "But it probably wouldn't hurt to have it x-rayed."

"No." Her negative was unequivocal even if her voice was a little shaky. "No hospital."

"Then here." He handed her one end of the first roll of bandaging, then pressed her hand against the far side of her rib cage. "Hold this while I get it started."

They were silent as he worked, carefully winding the bandages tight enough to support her ribs but not so tight she couldn't breathe. She grew more and more tense as he worked, gasping a little every time he hit a particularly tender spot. By the time he was done, they were both sweating and pale. Kensi sat back first, and Deeks looked her over. Then he reached out and grabbed her beer, handed it her, and then grasped his own. They each took a long pull.

"You know, I get it a little better now." He looked away as he spoke. Her head swiveled on the couch cushion, brows drawn in confusion.

"Get what?"

"What it was like back then. Back when you thought I was fired." He still avoided her gaze. "When everyone else knew what was going on, and you thought the worst."

"Oh. That." She looked away now. "Sorry about that. Hetty thought the sniper might be watching, and she wanted to make sure he saw an honest reaction from someone. And I guess she thought that you…" Her voice died away.

"That I would have the strongest reaction?" he supplied.

Kensi shrugged, uncomfortable. "I guess."

"Well she was right." He closed his eyes, reliving the horror of those moments when he'd thought Kensi had been shot. "That was maybe some of the worst moments of my life. I'd rather get shot a thousand times than have to sit and watch it happen to you."

She smiled, still looking down. He glanced over and caught it, then decided it was time to lighten the moment.

"Sure, laugh it up there, Blye." He pretended indignation. "I open myself up and tell you I'd take a bullet for you and you think it's funny. Do you know how much it hurts to get shot? Really shot, and not just with a….hey, we never did establish that, did we? Just where and when you've been shot."

"I've never been shot."

"And I _still_ don't believe you." He wondered just how many beers it would take to get her to start spilling some secrets.

"Well that's all you're gonna get."

He grinned a little, and he put his arm around her and gently pulled her close. "We'll see about that."

The two of them bantered a little, drank a little more, and watched less-than-Emmy-worthy reality television deep into the night. Kensi dozed against him more often than not, the stress and fear of the day taking its toll on her stamina. She woke up with a start late in the evening, then turned toward her partner, absorbing the unique smell of sun, sand, and musk that was Deeks.

"You know," she said slowly, voice slightly muffled in his shirt, "this isn't over. He's still out there—the man who shot my father."

"I know," Deeks said softly.

"I want to find him. Take him out."

"I know."

She swallowed. "Harris told me who it is. But I don't think…I can't do it by myself."

"I know," he repeated again.

She took a deep breath. "I was hoping maybe you'd help me."

He stroked her shoulder, turned and kissed the top of her head. "Whether you like it or not, I'll be with you every step of the way."

With a smile, she nestled back into his shoulder. "I know."


End file.
